


Two Years, Seven Months, and Twenty One Days

by blustersquall



Series: Alistair Theirin x Roselyn Cousland [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Reunion Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Alistair is reunited with his Queen, after she returns to him from her quest to locate a cure for the Calling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Years, Seven Months, and Twenty One Days

**Author's Note:**

> A second story written for greyallison's giveaway on tumblr.  
> As before the prompt/theme is "celebration". I figured the King and Queen reuniting is a celebration. Albeit this is their private celebration.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days since Alistair bid farewell to his Queen as she disappeared on an almost impossible quest to find a cure for the Calling and the Blight.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days since he choked back the emotion threatening to suffocate him watching her ride away from Denerim – from him. Since he sent up silent prayers to the Maker that she would be safe. That she would be successful. That she would return to him and they would be blessed with the long life together they deserved.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days of sleeplessness, of anguish, and being wracked with guilt. He should have gone with her. He  _should_  have been with her, searching together. Teagan or Eamon could have ruled as Regent while they were both gone.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days… and it was finally over. She was back. She was alive, and she was in his arms once more. Alistair did not care if she was successful or not. All he could focus on was how good it felt to hold her again. To have her wrapped within his embrace. Safe, alive, home, and his.

Absolutely his.

They retreated to the bed chamber that for so long was missing a second person. The bed felt too cold and too big for just one person for too long. Now it would feel right again. Alistair would be able to sleep soundly again. He would be able to wake up to the sound of her breathing beside him. To the warmth of her body, soft and inviting.

Locking the door behind him, he feared that after so long apart things would be awkward. That they would look at each other across the room and see strangers. That they would be changed. The weight of the crown weighed on him. And the harshness of her task might have hardened her, made her different. Even if she was different, he didn’t care. If they had to relearn everything and get to know each other all over again then he would do it. He would endure anything just to make sure she remained at his side where she belonged.

His worry was unnecessary. As soon as he turned away from the door, pushing air from his lungs in a whoosh, Roselyn was on him. Lips against his, hard and hungry, desperate and pleading. Fierce kisses, joined by fiercer hands fumbling for buckles and clasps, trying to wind beneath his clothing and reach his skin underneath.

 _Maker -_ he had missed her mouth. He missed her voice. Her touch. He had missed the smell of her, her scent having long since left their bed. To have her again, so close and real, not a dream sent to torment or punish him, it took all of Alistair’s will power not to push her against the wall, rip her clothes off, and have her roughly there and then.

“Rose, Rose.” He gently grasped her hands at the front of his jerkin. They were shaking.  _She_  was shaking. He realised he was too. Shivering under his finery, his breaths coming short and sharp.  He pulled away, brushing his nose across his wife's. Her grey eyes fluttered open, lost and a little dazed as if falling back into the room. Her hot breaths tickled his mouth. He wanted to kiss her and make up for the time they were apart. He also wanted to savour everything about this moment and this long awaited reunion.

“What’s wrong?” Roselyn asked him, pressing soft, enticing kisses to his lips while she teetered on her tiptoes to reach him.

Alistair’s stomach plummeted to his feet. She was so alluring, he had almost forgotten how her kisses affected him and what she did to him. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Alistair,” Roselyn huffed a little. She dropped to the flats of her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “It’s been far too long for us to play coy.”

“Two years, seven months, and twenty one days.” Alistair told her, mouth curving into a slow smile at the way her expression faltered. “To be exact.”

“That long?” She released a long breath through her nose staring down at the floor. Alistair slipped his hands across her shoulders to stroke down her arms. Roselyn lifted her head. “I don’t know if it’s sweet or a testament to how bored you’ve been that you know the exact length of time I’ve been away.”

He shrugged. “Can I help it if I missed you?”

With a soft chuckle Roselyn closed what little space there was between him, draping her arms up around his shoulders. “I missed you, too.” When she kissed him again it was softer, warmer, deeper. More like the kisses they shared before she left. It was familiar and made Alistair’s skin tingle from the tips of his fingers to his toes.

In one swift motion he scooped Roselyn up off the floor, relishing the music of her laughter in his ears. A sound that gripped him and made his chest tighten to realise how much he had missed it. He crossed their room in a few short strides and dropped her onto the bed they would resume sharing from now on. As Roselyn sat up, Alistair kneeled over her legs, hands working on the clasps and ties of her tunic. Her hands slid across his waist, caressing him over his clothing. Her mouth intoxicated him, distracted him, enthralled him. Her tongue rough and velvet stroking his drawing him closer, making his stomach coil and his toes curl. Any thoughts of not rushing, of waiting, and taking this reunion slow were lost with each item of clothing they discarded.

Roselyn shimmied up the bed towards the headboard and pillows, lying back and watching Alistair prowl towards her. Stroking his large hands up the backs of her calves and her thighs, Alistair parted her legs so he could kneel snugly between them, smirking at the way her legs trembled under his touch and the way her skin prickled into goose bumps. Stroking one hand up, following the swell of her hip and the curve of her waist, Alistair nipped at Roselyn’s bottom lip while slipping his free hand between her thighs, and easing the tips of his fingers along the damp folds of her heat.

The way her hips bucked to the slightest glance made Alistair chuckle, a deep rumbling sound from within his chest. Roselyn raked her fingers through his hair, angling his head to kiss him harder, no longer satisfied by the brief nips and touches he provided. Her tongue slid between his lips, and she lifted her hips up off the bed, driving into Alistair’s hand with a weak, impatient moan.

He stroked her, easing one finger then a second inside her, worried he might cause her pain if they were in too much of a hurry. With his other hand he stroked across her navel, winding it up over burning skin. Dragging his mouth from hers, he kissed down her throat, nibbling with his teeth and leaving white-hot kisses in his wake. He followed the angle of her collar bone, kissed the swells of her breasts, pinching and teasing one pebbled nipple between his fingers, while he lavished the other with attention from his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the pert nub, he suckled, grinning against Roselyn’s skin at the way she arched up into him, scratching her fingers across his back.

“Alistair…” She said his name breathlessly. Her nails dug into the curve of his backside and she tried to wrap her legs around his waist, giving him all he hinting he needed.

Withdrawing his fingers from her wet heat, Alistair made a show of licking them clean, his eyes on Roselyn’s, drinking in the sight of her. Her skin flushed scarlet, the rapid rise and fall of her chest with her breaths, and the way her hair spread out around her.

Positioning himself above her, taking his weight on one hand, Alistair slowly inched himself inside her, gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw against the way she tightened and squeezed him. She was hot around him. Hot, familiar, and delicious. It was like coming home. He kissed her hard, swallowing the soft groan that arose from her chest as he began to move, driving his hips at a deliberately steady pace, not wanting to end their reunion prematurely.

He felt like the young, inexperienced Grey Warden again, all nervous hands and irregular strokes, bumbling along while trying not to feel a fool. As if sensing his anxiety Roselyn guided him, curving her legs around his hips, pressing her heels into his flanks. Her thighs tightened around him, anchoring him and she lifted her hips to meet his even thrusts, grinding her pelvis with every snap of their bodies coming together.

Winding one hand through her hair, Alistair groped for the flesh of her arse with the other, pressing his fingers down into her skin bring her impossibly close. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, quickening the pace of his thrusting. Roselyn bit the down on the shell of his ear, the sound of her pleasure pushing Alistair further and more eagerly towards the climax building in his gut. The noises she made were as distracting as she was. The arch of her neck pushing her head back into the pillows, the low guttural groan which ripped through her, the regular murmurs of his name on her lips, almost pleading into his ears.

Alistair growled her name against her mouth, his pace growing faster. He drove into her roughly, and with growing speed. Too long without her had left him impetuous and impatient, the way she squeezed around him, the slap of her flesh against his and the smell of her sweat intermingled with his had him aching for release.

Roselyn clung to him, fingers pressing into his back, her arms tight around him. Their bodies were slick, their room was filled with their soft grunts and groans, and the steady sound of skin meeting skin. A deep moan rumbled through Alistair as he came apart in her arms, shivering with the weight of his climax rocketing through him. He slowed his pace, breathing hard, sweating and trembling, kissing his way up her neck and along her jaw to press heady, reverent kisses to her lips. He worshipped her mouth as a pilgrim at a shrine, lying above her and stroking his fingers up and down her sides. He whispered things to her, unintelligible murmurs full of affection and adoration, whispers she returned while they composed themselves and caught their breath.

They lay together in companionable silence, Alistair’s cheek cushioned against Roselyn’s breasts. She trickled her fingers down his back and through his hair, moving only when he did to take his weight off her.

When Alistair lifted his head after lying quietly together for a long time, he leaned up to press a soft kiss to the tip of Roselyn’s nose. He freed one of his arms to clear stray tendrils of hair from her face with a touch so tender and gentle, she might as well have been made of glass.

“We should arrange a celebration.” He remarked, grinning. “The Queen returning is definitely a good enough reason to celebrate.”

Roselyn wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed, switching their positions so Alistair lay flat and she knelt over him. She smirked, biting the corner of her bottom lip and dragging her nails down his chest. Alistair stroked his hands up and down the tops of her bare thighs, marvelling at the vision of her naked above him. “And here I thought we  _were_  celebrating.”

Alistair laughed, pulling her down into his embrace and kissing her soundly.

Two years, seven months, and twenty one days and finally she was home.


End file.
